Due to the closure of school and businesses, my parents decided that we return to Taiwan at the end of May, ending our two-year-long expedition in the U.S. earlier than planned. For me, the decision meant to abandon the anticipation for a traditional end of my senior year altogether.

The implication was devastating, but there was no time to waste. I urgently contacted several teachers to make sure that I can receive my yearbook and diploma, lest the next resident of our apartment unit cold-bloodedly shoves them down the trash tube. The notion was infuriating and temporarily overwhelmed my sorrow. Once I concluded the intense exchange of emails, however, I could but lay paralyzed on my bed in thought. 

I recalled the joy of reading my first English book and gradually became able to articulate my thoughts in the language, researching on quantum physics for a science project and humbly accepted that my knowledge is very limited, and engaging people from countries I had never heard of and grew fascinated with their diverse perspectives. Most importantly, I learned to embrace who I am and be proud of him. Whether it be my teachers, friends, acquaintances, or colleagues, the people I met here have prepared me to fly to the next chapter of my life.

As I boarded the plane, I whispered, “thank you.”